The girl’s emerald eyes flashed, but her body language was hesitant. Lana took advantage of her confident words to step a few feet closer, her own fiery irises blazing dauntingly. Cas followed her companion, paws landing silently on the damp weeds the budding conversation was framed in. She sat and lashed her tail against the healer’s ankles.
“I believe the territory is as much mine as it is yours,”
Lana purred, her accents caressing the retort and oozing dissatisfaction. A twisted smile curled her lips however much her tone hissed cold and acidic ice. She didn’t mind bothering those of higher rank than she. The Italian was smart but bitter.
“My name is Lana,”
The woman said again, leaving little room for another of the girl’s come back. She jumped closer with a predator’s grin and inspected her hair. The purple wing stood out brashly against the background of dead branches and green foliage. Skeptical gaze finally took in her whole stature. She had acquired the harsh perfume of the pack Lana had yet to soak herself in. Cas, still attached to her side by the invisible string of respect, rolled onto her hind legs to get a better look at the kitten.
“You’ll want to give that some milk, she won’t survive without it,”
The black and white bundle had grabbed the crazy-haired girl’s attention, by now obviously the source of the yowling that had disturbed the two in the first place. At the memory, Lana took a long drag from the cigarette.
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